Avery tilts her head and looks at the sky, but she isn't interested in enjoying the night's beauty. She's taking advantage of a break in the fog to look for the Big Dipper. Though the fog is dense, it's constantly shifting, and every once in awhile, she gets a glimpse of the starry sky. If she can locate the Big Dipper, she can figure out which way is North.

The forest is dense. If it were daytime, she would try to navigate by looking at the moss on the trees. She vaguely remembers learning that moss grows more densely on the northern side of trees.

"Luckily, I can see the stars," she thinks, "I'm sick of wandering in circles."

She tears a small piece away from her skirt and ties it to the lowest branch of a nearby tree. If she starts to go in a circle again, the fabric will help her fix her route. The short grass cuts her ankles, and the thorns snatch at her skirt. Frogs cry mournfully in the distance. She walks until her feet ache.

When she sees the strip of cloth on the branch, she wants to cry. She has no idea how she's lost her path again. The night is cold and windy and her feet and legs hurt. She finds a flat, relatively dry place next to a tree and sits down. She closes her eyes in deep exhaustion, but sleep doesn't come.

Every time the grass rustles, she jumps up in fear. There are many strange and haunting sounds in the forest, and in her exhaustion, she can't tell which are dangerous and which are harmless. After a long time, she drifts into a fitful sleep.

When she wakes up, the sun is glaring in her face. She knows she needs to eat and drink to maintain her strength, and she begins to hunt for fruits and berries. She drinks dew from leaves. She constantly tries to find a way out of the forest, but she always comes back to the same place.

After days in the forest, she's exhausted and weak. She leans against a broken branch as she walks, and her dirt-streaked face is pale with fatigue. She touches her abdomen worriedly and thinks about the baby. Though her stomach is still flat, she knows it's there, and she's worried she's starving it. Slowly, she sinks to the ground and closes her eyes.

The ground is cold, and Avery shivers until she falls asleep. When she wakes, she hears something rustling on the ground. A polished pair of fine leather shoes appear, and then she smells a man's cologne.

"Is it Evan?" Avery wonders, half-deliriously.

"Help me!" she tries to shout, but the words come out as a whisper, "Evan, help me!"

The man doesn't seem to see her. His shoes walk right past her and then get further and further away. His steps fade into the distance.

Evan wakes suddenly and sits up. His eyes are bloodshot, and his breath still smells like alcohol. He presses a button on the nightstand to call for Robert.

"What's wrong, sir?" Robert asks, racing in.

"What time is it?" Evan asks.

Thick curtains cover the window and make it impossible to tell if it's night or day.

"It's noon, sir," Robert says.

Evan rubs his temples with his hands and groans. He has a raging hangover, and his head feels like it might explode. He squints at Robert and tries to remember his dream. He knows he saw Avery, and she was screaming for his help. He remembers seeing her fall into a puddle of blood.

"Where is Avery's phone?" he asks.

"Mrs. Howel's phone is still turned off, so the location can't be monitored," Robert answers nervously.

"Has the hospital sent the test results yet?" Evan asks, impatiently.

The test was supposed to be ready two days ago, but a system failure at the hospital set everything back.

"Not yet," Robert replies, "They say they're working on getting the results as quickly as possible."

"What about the recording?" Evan inquires.

"As for the recording—it's very damaged," Robert explains, "The circuit board on the device was smashed, and it may be impossible to repair."

Robert stumbles on the word "impossible." He's afraid of invoking one of his boss' rages. In the past few days, Evan has been hardly recognizable: he constantly drinks and sleeps at odd hours. Robert has no idea what Evan might be capable of now.

"Nothing is impossible," Evan growls.

"Yes, sir," Robert nods.

"Are you waiting for me to kick you out of here physically?" Evan shouts, "Get lost!"

"Mr. Howel, there's one other thing," Robert says, "A hidden IP address sent us these photos."

Robert hands Evan a tablet and quickly steps away in case Evan tries to hurt him. The screen shows several photos of Avery and Andrew. The photos are grainy, and the angle is odd, but it seems as if the two are long lost lovers enjoying a happy reunion.

In one photo, Avery presses her hand to Andrew Clifford's chest. She looks shyly down at her feet as he smiles. In another image, Avery raises her head and he looks down at her. There's barely any space between their faces—as if they're about to kiss. Each photo seems to stab Evan like a blade. He balls his fist and smashes the glass screen with a single blow.

For days he's been drinking to numb the pain of losing her, but she seems to have forgotten about him.

"How happy she looks!" he thinks bitterly.

"She's fallen into a coma," one of Andrew's private doctors announces, "It seems to be a combination of exhaustion and malnutrition, exacerbated by the pregnancy."

"Is she really pregnant?" Andrew asks.

"Yes," the doctor replies, "And she's currently suffering from severe anemia as well."

Andrew glances at Avery. She's lying on the bed, and her face is worryingly pale. The covers are pulled up to her chin, but her stomach looks flat under the blankets. His heart seems to twist and squirm uncomfortably in his chest. He can't bear the thought of her carrying another man's child. He wants to dig it out of her herself.

"Why did Evan let her go if she's pregnant?" Andrew wonders, "Is it possible he doesn't know she's pregnant?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew sees Avery's finger twitch. Slowly, she begins to wake. At first, her face is peaceful, but when she sees Andrew, she looks panicked. She tries to sit up to defend herself against him, but she feels helpless weak.

She looks around the room and realizes she's back in Andrew's house. Something pricks her hand, and she looks down to see an IV needle inserted into the back of her hand. A colorless liquid flows through a plastic tube and into her veins.

"Where am I?" she asks, her voice weak.

"On my bed," Andrew says with a lascivious smirk.

Avery presses her lips together unhappily. A sound at the door disturbs her, and she sees a servant entered carrying a tray with a bottle of pills and a cup of water. Nothing has been done to obscure the name on the bottle, and Avery can see that the medicine is meant for an abortion. Unconsciously, she clutches her abdomen protectively.

"What is this supposed to mean?" Avery asks.

She forces herself to sit up. Her head hurts, and her body aches, but she wants to do everything in her power to defend herself from Andrew. Andrew raises his eyebrows with wry amusement.

"Are you pregnant?" he asks her.

"Yes, I am," she retorts, "So what?"

"I want you to have an abortion," he says, as calmly as if he's asking her to have some wine.

"You can't ask me to have an abortion," she replies.

"I'm the most powerful one here," Andrew says, his voice dangerously low, "Do you think you have a choice?"

Avery looks at him coldly. She can't understand why he's doing all this. She knows she's beautiful, but Andrew never lacks a beautiful woman. It makes no sense that he's become so obsessed with her.

Avery shakes her head. At first, she wanted to have an abortion, but now her maternal instincts have kicked in. She desperately wants to protect the baby. She feels even more protective when she remembers it's Evan's child too. She knows she's risking her life, but she's willing to make that sacrifice for everlasting love.

"You don't have the right to ask me to have an abortion," she snaps, "It's my baby."

"There's nothing I can't do," Andrew says, "I assure you, I'm not used to being denied."

His tone is even more arrogant than Evan's, and Avery can feel a cold sweat begin on her forehead. She has no doubt that he'll do whatever he says. She clutches the quilt to her stomach and bites her lip.

"What's the second option?" she asks, "You said there were two before."

"But you refused to listen then," he says.

"I don't really have any choice anymore, do I?" Avery asks with a sad smile.

It's clear that playing tough won't persuade him. She hopes she can charm him into giving her what she wants.

"Stay here and be my wife," Andrew whispers.

"Why do you want me?" Avery asks, "You are handsome and rich, and many women love you and would be happy to call you their husband. I'm pregnant with another man's baby. Besides, do you really want to fuck a pregnant woman?"

"I said that my heart needs you," Andrew says, "I can't love another woman."

"Well, as long as I can give birth to my baby, I'm willing to be your heart's wife," Avery says carefully, "Most importantly, your heart can touch me, but you can't."